November 11th. I miss them today. The kind of missing that shows up in the middle of ordinary moments—opening a cupboard, hearing a song, catching a smell that yanks you back.
If you’re reading this months later, I hope grief has softened into something you can carry without dropping everything. I hope you’ve let yourself talk about them out loud, not just “be strong.” I hope you kept the little rituals: lighting a candle, visiting that place, sending a message to someone who remembers them too.
Here’s what I’m learning: grief isn’t a problem to solve. It’s love with nowhere to go. And love doesn’t disappear just because time passes.
So if you feel sad today, let it be sad. Don’t rush to “fix” it. Put your hand on your chest, breathe, and remember that you’re allowed to miss people deeply.
And if you feel okay today, don’t feel guilty for that either. Joy isn’t betrayal. It’s proof you’re still alive.